Great Love
by oh-you-pretty-things
Summary: Shindou Shuichi, international superstar singer of Bad Luck, has disappeared at the height of his career. No one knows where he is. Coincidentally, renowned novelist, Yuki Eiri is also missing. Told from several characters POVs. SSxYE
1. Hiro

**DISCLAIMER: Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami. I'm just borrowing the characters to fulfill the needs of my own morbid plot bunnies.**

**AN: Hmm. What am I doing? Beats the hell out of me. See, I've been re-reading Gravi and for some reason the following quote from "Win a Date with Tad Hamilton" inspired me to write a little story...okay...so it'll probably be bigger than I have time for, but...yeah. I want to do this from various POVs, ending with Shuichi's POV. This isn't quite like the many, many 'Yuki broke Shu's heart and EVERYTHING ON EARTH CHANGES' stories, although it may feel like it at first. I guess it depends on whose POV you're reading! Yuki does something...but...break Shu's heart? Hm. I don't think so. But I haven't decided yet!! Hahaha!! Okay, that's enough rambling. I'm sorry to new readers who aren't used to my rambling...such is life.** **Anyway, all in all, I'm really displeased with this particular chapter because it didn't go as smoothly as I wanted. However, I'm out of practice and I chose a weird format to write this in...so...whatevs. I hope SOMEONE out there likes it!**

_"Love you get over in two months, big love you get over in two years, and great love, well great love... changes your life. So which one is it?" – Angelica, Win a Date with Tad Hamilton_

Hiro

_Hello, Japan! This evening we welcome Nakano Hiroshi-sama of Bad Luck to talk, for the first time in public, about the mysterious disappearance of Shindou Shuichi-sama, the infamous lead singer of Bad Luck and international superstar._

_Nakano-sama, do you have any idea where Shindou-sama is?_

I smiled weakly because there's nothing else I could do. I don't know where Shu is. I haven't a clue. It's all been scripted for me – a publicity stunt to increase public demand – but the truth is: no one knows where Shuichi is. Not Seguchi, not Sakano, not Suguru and not even K. And, coincidentally the only person left to ask has also conveniently disappeared.

The reporter watches me with eager eyes, expecting some cookie-cutter response fresh out of N-G. After all, I'd become the spokesperson for Bad Luck. Shuichi wouldn't come to press releases anymore. He wouldn't say a word to the press and paparazzi when they followed him everywhere he went. He wouldn't go on television. He wouldn't even do radio shows anymore.

I knew what I was going to tell them, and it's not what they expect.

_"The truth is it all started with the fight..."_

And that is the truth. Something changed in Shuichi that day. Something both wonderful and broken emerged in place of the Shuichi that I had known for years. It was _the_ fight in a relationship full of fighting. I still don't know what was said. I don't know what Yuki-san could have said to Shu that would finally break him. I don't know what Shu could have done to incite that argument. And I really don't know why Shu never went back to him.

It happened right after we finished our national tour. Shuichi was as excited as ever to be reunited with Yuki. He was practically exploding with joy on the train ride back into Tokyo. I had heard him talking on the phone to Yuki, laughing and smiling. Things were normal.

And then...well... Shuichi showed up to the studio the next day, but something wasn't right. There was no bounce in his step, thus indicating that he'd done something to upset Yuki again, and yet he wasn't moping or miserable. In fact, he'd strode in with an armful of new lyrics and music.

"I want to start recording a new album."

Bam. No lead up, no excitement, just pure professionalism. We were all baffled – Sakano, Suguru, K, and I.

"Shu, is everything alright?"

His eyes turned to me and I saw that something was, in fact, irreversibly wrong. It was a question I regretted asking as soon as I had. I had expected him to explode in a fit of whining. I had expected him to just lay it all out. For him to come up with that much music and all those lyrics overnight, well...it just...wasn't something I expected him to be capable of at this point in our career. I mean, even as we toured Japan, the kid was still clinging to Sakuma Ryuichi as though he were a god. I didn't expect him to come to the realization that Nittle Grasper was a thing of the past for a long while. But his face told me that he was done with being second best. Maybe that had to do with Yuki, maybe it didn't.

"Never better," he replied with that same cool professionalism and a smug smile. The room erupted with noise as K and Sakano started in with their usual routine – questions and gunshots. But Suguru had his wits about him enough to look over what Shuichi had brought.

"Shindou-san, this is...amazing." His small voice cut through the madness.

He passed the papers to me and, well, he was right. Shuichi had always been talented, but this was something else. This was the album that could put him up with Ryuichi and Nittle Grasper. The papers were snatched from me by K and Sakano. I turned my attention back to Shuichi while Nakano and K exploded with pure happiness over Shuichi's work. I watched him calmly sit down at the table, crack open a can of coffee, and start reading the newspaper. Shuichi. Reading the newspaper.

"Shu," I said quietly so that the others wouldn't hear, "Something happened with Yuki."

It wasn't a question. Something had happened. That music, those words – Shuichi would never have been able to come up with them without something happening with Yuki. Something bad.

Shuichi looked up from the paper and smiled delicately. Sadly. He didn't say anything, he just went right back to sipping his coffee and reading the paper. Before I had a chance to say another word, Sakano and K were already planning out our schedule. That night, Shuichi left the studio with his newspaper in hand and began walking in the opposite direction. I tried to keep it light. Tried to get him to speak about it.

"Ne, Shu? You've been away from Tokyo so long that you've forgotten where you live?"

He turned, the orange glow of sunlight surrounding his figure, and smiled again. That same sad smile. "I have something I need to do."

Later that night, I passed by Yuki's house. I had a bad feeling about this whole thing and it would've made me feel better to know that Shuichi had gone home like he should have. But, when I got there, the lights were out. No one was home. I didn't have much of a choice but to go home myself.

I was awoken early the next morning by a panicky phone call from Sakano.

"Nakano-san, it's horrible! You have to find Shindou-san! RIGHT NOW!"

"What?"

"THE NEWS, NAKANO-SAN! THE NEWS! OH, IT'S AWFUL!"

"Okay, okay. Hang on, I'll turn it on."

I didn't think much of it as I clamoured around, looking for the remote. Sakano was well-known for panicking over nothing. I flicked on the TV and dropped the phone.

_Yuki Eiri, well-known romance novelist and admitted lover of Shindou Shuichi the rock band, Bad Luck, was seen canoodling with popular actress, Ito Misaki last night at Tokyo's most romantic restaurant, Ryugin._

And there they were, more than canoodling I'd say, right there on the television for all of Japan to see. What the fuck was he doing? Better yet, where the hell was Shuichi? Now I understood the urgency in Sakano's voice. Where Yuki was concerned, Shuichi could get more than a little irrational.

I hung up on Sakano, who was still yelling in full-panic mode, and dialled Shuichi's number.

"Good morning, Hiro," Shuichi answered after the second ring. He sounded, well, _normal_, which of course _wasn't_ normal for Shuichi.

"Uh, hi, Shu. Um...have...have you seen the news?" I prayed that he hadn't.

"Oh," he replied softly, a touch of sadness creeping into his voice, "Yes."

"Are...well, are you...okay?"

Shuichi sighed deeply. "Sure. Though, it's a shame that they're cancelling Iron Chef after so many years."

I almost sighed in relief until I realized that he was just trying to cover himself now.

"Shuichi-"

"I'm fine," he interjected, his voice suddenly cold. "Yuki Eiri can do whatever – and whoever - he chooses."

I was shocked into silence. This was Shuichi. Shuichi, who would break into a bawling fit whenever he was parted from Yuki for even a day. Shuichi, whose whole existence had revolved around Yuki Eiri for the past three years.

"Where are you?"

He laughed. That tinkling, easy Shuichi-laugh echoed over the receiver, and I could almost believe that he was actually fine with this. "I'm on my way to the studio. I want to start recording as soon as possible. I want this album out, Hiro, before people forget who we are. Japan is not enough. I want the whole world," he paused then and giggled again, "See you soon!"

I had never seen Shuichi as serious about his music as he was then. When I arrived at the studio, he was there as promised, already playing with the vocals and poking about at the keyboard. Everyone was on edge with him, expecting an outburst at any time. But I had never seen Shuichi like this. I didn't know what to expect from him. One thing was certain, as he continually made us stop so that he could rearrange some bit in the vocals, Shindou Shuichi was planning on surpassing Sakuma Ryuichi.

At the end of the day, I offered Shuichi a ride home. I was still afraid that he would fall to pieces at any moment.

"Sure, but I'll have to give you directions."

"Don't be stupid. I've been to Yuki's plenty of times."

Shuichi jumped on the back of the motorcycle, strapping on the helmet in uneasy silence. He hugged my back, the smallness of his body felt so frail.

"I don't live with Yuki anymore."

The tone of his voice told me not to push it anymore right then. When he was ready, he would tell me. He certainly wasn't ready yet.  
"Okay. Where to?"

When we rounded the corner towards Shuichi's new apartment, it became apparent that someone had leaked his address to the press. I started to pull over, but Shuichi fingers curled into my shoulders, stopping me.

"It's okay, Hiro. Things aren't going to get better from here on out. I may as well face the music," he forced a laugh, "Face the music, get it?"

"Shu, I'm sure there's a back door. You don't have to do this."

Shuichi leaned his head against my back. "It's better to see the blade coming than to have it stabbed in your back. Pull over here and let me off. You don't want them on your tail, too."

I don't know if it was the shock of this whole messy situation, or what, but I did as he asked and watched him bravely solider on into the crowd of waiting news vultures.

I could hear them from here:

"It's Shindou-san!"

"Shindou-san, is it true that you and Yuki Eiri are no longer living together?"

"Shindou-san, how do you feel about Yuki Eiri's relationship with Ito Misaki?"

"Shindou-san..." etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

Shuichi really said nothing besides the occasional 'excuse me' as he weaved through the crowd. He turned once he got to the front door and smiled widely. I wasn't expecting him to say anything at all.

"Bad Luck is recording a new album right now," he said loudly, cutting through the questions involving Yuki. His face turned serious, the same face he had when he walked into the studio yesterday. "This album will be unlike anything you've ever heard. It'll blow your minds!"

The directions of the questions had turned suddenly, as he had wanted, to the fact that we had just returned to Tokyo from a nationwide tour. But, some creeping, gossiping predator couldn't help but ask:

"This sudden recording session – it doesn't have anything to do with the end of your relationship with Yuki-san, does it Shindou-san?"

Right then, I watched Shu become something I'd never seen before. In fact, the only time I'd seen that kind of powerful stage presence was when I'd seen Nittle Grasper perform.

"It's time for Japan to start seeing me for what I am – the lead singer of Bad Luck – and not for who I choose to take as a lover. I want to bring this band to a whole new level. I want to surpass Nittle Grasper."

While the crowd was too stunned by his declaration to pay complete attention, he slipped inside and out of sight. Shuichi had laid down his challenge to all of Japan and I knew right then and there that he would get what he wanted. I just hadn't known the cost.


	2. Suguru

**DISCLAIMER: Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami. I'm just borrowing the characters to fulfill the needs of my own morbid plot bunnies.**

**AN: Well, this is a little shorter than originally anticipated, but it leads me to my next person's POV appropriately, so I'll leave it. Hm, did I do Suguru right? I really don't know. Le sigh. Please read and review!! (PS - sorry for any typos, grammatical issues - It's 4am...)**

_"Love you get over in two months, big love you get over in two years, and great love, well great love... changes your life. So which one is it?" – Angelica, Win a Date with Tad Hamilton_

Suguru

"Nakano-san is not sticking to the plan," I said half-heartedly.

There was a bit of madness going on behind the scenes. K, of course, felt it was a good approach and that it would build even more publicity – not that we needed it. Sakano-san, on the other hand, was about to explode. And I, I was glad that someone had broken the silence and I was even more glad that it was Nakano-san. At present, there's no one closer to Shindou-san than Nakano-san. It's his right to let the world know that he'd gone missing.

It'd been a month now since the last time we all remember seeing Shindou-san. The cool, reflective persona that he had adopted often allowed him to slip out of parties unnoticed. It's hard to believe that Shindou-san was once something other than the massive celebrity he had become. If I stretch my mind a little, I can almost remember when he would run through rooms, rampaging and utterly useless because of something Yuki Eiri-san had done or said. It's almost as though Shindou had taken on pieces of Yuki-san. He'd adopted the same mask to wear for the public. And yet, the problem was that he never took that mask off. Never once. Not since the fight.

As I was saying, it's been a month since we last saw him. We had completed the final concert of our world tour, fittingly at Zepp Tokyo. Shindou-san gave an incredible performance. Many critics said it was his best to date. It was almost as though it were a farewell concert, now that I think of it. Anyway, N-G threw a huge welcome-back party for us. I would have thought, after such a performance, that Shindou-san would have let himself relax for once, but he was tense. All night, he huddled in the corner, an adoring fan on either arm, and said little. I wasn't the last person to see him that night, but when I looked back after speaking with Seguchi-san, Shindou was gone.

_"The media were everywhere then. The headlines splashed up: Yuki Eiri and Shindou Shuichi: Is it over?"_ Hiro's voice filtered through the speakers.

Oh I remember then. It was a scary time. A very frightening experience...

The newspaper writers persisted for weeks about the collapse of Yuki-san's and Shindou-san's relationship. The problem was, neither man would comment. When Shindou was asked, he'd just smile and change the subject. He became a master at avoiding uncomfortable subjects and he did it with a grace I never would have thought possible for him. Yuki-san, on the other hand, made a point of being seen with a different person every night. A different _woman_ every night. He made no comments about Shindou-san. In fact, he avoided commenting on anything at all and preferred to inflict his wounds upon Shindou with paparazzi pictures.

No one knew what went wrong between them, just that something had been irreparably broken in their relationship. Unfortunately, both men's avoidance of the issue caused a great deal of speculation to occur. It was a month of his living alone and fighting off the questions before our album was ready to be printed. Only a month. I had never experienced that sort of dedication from Shindou-san unless he was driven to meet some goal for Yuki-san. But Yuki-san was seemingly out of the picture, which was the baffling part.

Just before the album was to go to print, Shindou-san announced that he would like to participate in some promotional interviews and videos. Although the need was no longer there for us to go out and force ourselves upon the public, Shindou had decided to do one, and only one, talk show on television. It was stressed that no questions about Shindou's personal relationships were to be asked. But, of course, once they have you on live television, what can you do?

"Shindou-san, all of Japan has been wanting to know for weeks now, is your relationship with Yuki Eiri over?"

I could see K in the wings, pulling out his gun and aiming. Sakano-san had practically passed out. Nakano-san jumped in, trying to divert the attention away from the question, but Shindou put his hand on his arm ever so lightly.

"I'll respond to that," he said softly, "Yuki Eiri and I are no longer involved. Yuki-san is free."

It was no surprise to us, but the fact that he had answered the question directly and bluntly had been.

"But, Shindou-san, surely you must know that your fans, especially the girls, want to know if you are 'free'."

That was the moment when the Shindou-san we all knew broke through slightly. His eyes widened and his mouth formed a circle of surprise. He honestly hadn't thought about what that announcement would mean to his fans. A small smile began to stretch across his face and he started to lift a hand to his head. And then it was gone. He dropped his hand and looked directly into the camera with that smug grin we had all started to accept.

"I suppose I am."

That was the last television interview Shindou Shuichi ever did.

The first single off our new album was incredibly catchy – it was already number one in Japan, but Shindou wanted more. Every day I would see him stride into Seguchi's office for meetings. Later I found out that he was working on releasing the songs in English. And just like that, we were back in the studio. We watched in awe as Bad Luck rose on the American charts. We had fans in America, fans who were excited about the prospect of seeing us live.

Shindou shifted his focus onto setting up a world tour for Bad Luck. And, with the way our music was transcending continental boundaries, Seguchi-san had no reservations about it. We had been back in Tokyo for three months before we found ourselves packing again. Shindou wanted to take the world by storm. He wanted what Sakuma-san had. And he wanted it very badly.

The tour itself was outrageous. We were on tour for nearly six months, hitting every major city in every civilized country that we could. Shindou dedicated himself to perfecting his English and sang entirely in English throughout the tour. But, there was one city we didn't play in. I was surprised the Seguchi-san was willing to let such a prime location slide, but then again Yuki-san had once lived there and Shindou-san had visited there on several occasions with Yuki-san.

_"Nakano-san, if Shindou-sama really is missing, don't you have any idea where he could be__? You are his best friend, after all."_

_"I have an idea."_

New York City was not one of the Bad Luck World Tour stops.


	3. Tohma

**DISCLAIMER: Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami. I'm just borrowing the characters to fulfill the needs of my own morbid plot bunnies.**

**AN: Hi again! Thanks for the reviews! It seems they are precious commodities with this fandom, so I appreciate each and every one of them!! Okay, so this is a long POV, but keep in mind that it contains Shuichi's first American magazine interview! (If only the pictures by Mario Testino really existed. Of course, Shuichi is in all sorts of sexy tweed suits with weird coloured socks against strange backgrounds...maybe an abandoned warehouse or a field in Hokkaido ...mmm...delicious Shu-chan...) So, thus far Eiri has been absent, but alas HE APPEARS HERE!! Dahahaha. Wow. I have no idea what is wrong with me. Anyway, this one is long and hopefully not too riddled with grammatical issues. I make no promises!! Please read and review!! **

_"Love you get over in two months, big love you get over in two years, and great love, well great love... changes your life. So which one is it?" – Angelica, Win a Date with Tad Hamilton_

Tohma

_"I have an idea."_

Nakano-san was certainly not sticking to the prepared press release.

New York was the first place I had my people look when Shindou-san went missing. What that place means to him, I don't know. I do know what it means to Eiri. And I do know that they'd visited New York together on several separate occasions. When Shindou asked that the world tour not include New York City, I agreed immediately. As a business man, I could not afford to have this newly minted Shindou Shuichi breaking down by being in that city and as someone who cares about Eiri, I could not afford any upset in any direction by the inclusion of New York City in the tour.

Perhaps I should backtrack a little. You see, Eiri took the break up surprisingly well in the early days. Unlike when I had forced him to break up with Shindou, Eiri seemed to have an immediate detachment from him. He started to see a different woman every night, which in all honesty should have been the first observation that I had made. His nonchalance in regards to the sudden disintegration of the relationship that had re-shaped his life made me to believe that he had been the one to finally give up on Shindou. In truth, I should have been more aware of the brilliant lyrics that Shindou had come up with seemingly overnight, not to mention the total personality change. The problem was that the business man in me saw that Bad Luck's potential was finally being legitimately tapped, while from a personal perspective I was happy to see such a tumultuous relationship ending. But that wasn't the truth, was it?

I didn't truly see the damage the entire situation had inflicted on both of the parties until Shindou disappeared. He had slipped out during the N-G welcome back party, which as of late, wasn't unusual behaviour for him. Chances were that he had slipped out with some fans, which he had made a point of doing on occasion. Perhaps it was to get back at Eiri for his blatant promiscuity, or maybe he was just lonely. In any sense, the issue became apparent when he did not show up to the studio two days later. This would have been predictable behaviour for the old Shindou, but Shindou Shuichi, the musical genius, did not miss recording sessions. Especially when he was the one who insisted upon them so often.

After trying the obvious, I had put the word out through a few of my contacts, searching through media stories to see if he had been spotted recently anywhere. Nothing. Not a word. Even Ryuichi wasn't that good at hiding from the press. In fact, Shindou had never really made it his business to hide. He seemed to enjoy the attention and the fact that it was driven entirely by his music and not his relationships. Well deserved fame at long last. The next step was to discretely contact hospitals, the police, and to check the records of any and all routes of transportation. Shindou had apparently not taken the train, not rented a car, not boarded a ship nor a plane. The problem was, with his overwhelming fame, there were certain methods for avoiding this sort of tracking. I hadn't thought Shindou quite clever enough to carry them out, but that would be my major downfall rearing its ugly head again: underestimating Shindou Shuichi. In the meantime, I had his cell phone records checked. A call had been placed to his phone at 3:30am on the night of the party. That would have been approximately the time that Shindou was missed from the party. The call came from his sister Maiko. Unfortunately this was a dead end as she said she had only called to congratulate him on the concert and to invite him for dinner the next day, a date that he did not keep. The call from Maiko was the last call recorded in his phone records. Essentially, Shindou Shuichi had disappeared.

Now it would be folly to say that I wasn't worried about Shindou. I certainly was. He was N-G's main commodity with Bad Luck's last album outselling three of Nittle Grasper's albums. But, beyond that, he had once been the dearest person to Eiri. I wrestled with the idea of informing Eiri of Shindou's disappearance – on one hand, why should he care? They had been broken up for the better part of a year now. On the other hand, did Eiri deserve to find out about it with the rest of the world when the media gag was finally lifted? No, of course not. So, in the end, I decided it was only right to tell Eiri. To let him do with that information what he would.

Perhaps that had been a mistake, or maybe a punishment for me. I admit that I had been more than a little preoccupied with the Asian portion of Bad Luck's world tour, often leaving Mika alone for weeks on end. I realized, as my hand was on his buzzer, that I hadn't seen Eiri in nearly three months. Possibly Eiri had been waiting for me to leave him in peace for a while so that he could set in motion the disaster I came to find when he opened the door.

I had to buzz twice before he answered, opening the door to me with his signature cigarette dangling between his lips. I nearly gasped when I saw him. I knew what a mess he could be when he was in the middle of writing, but this was something else entirely. He looked...broken. His eyes were drawn, his expression miserable, his whole demeanour defeated. Merely pushing the door open and turning away was all the welcome I was to expect. His apartment was dark, darker than usual, with only the faint yellow glow of his desk lamp leaking out into the hallway from his study. I followed him in absent awe, amazed at how messy his apartment had become and then paused mid-step as my eye caught sight of what the clutter contained.

My feet moved of their own accord, bringing me closer to the offending items. There, frozen on the television, was Shindou Shuichi as he had appeared not five days ago in concert in Tokyo. On the table were several Bad Luck CDs and videos, a number of music magazines featuring Bad Luck, and the American magazine, GQ, which featured an extremely flattering picture of a rather serious Shindou on the cover. I knew all about that particular magazine as I had arranged for the interview and photo shoot. Without thinking, I flipped the magazine open to the article. It had been written about a year ago, when Bad Luck was climbing the US charts, around the time when the World Tour was announced, around the time of the infamous fight.

The article was printed in white against a pensive Shindou. The title was garish, foolish, but effective. The article itself, well, I hadn't really read it to be honest. Bad Luck had the best PR team that money could buy so I had never been concerned about anything being leaked. Also, with Shindou's state at the time, he handled any and all questions with infinite grace.

_Asian Invasion! An exclusive interview with Japan's superstar, Shuichi Shindou, of Bad Luck. Shuichi opens up to Julia Evans about music, life and love. Photographs by Mario Testino_.

_Shuichi Shindou sits, staring absently out the window of a high-rise, high-class Tokyo hotel room. Everything in this room is modern and crisp, but Shuichi adds a sudden flare of street-smart chic with his faded jeans and bright green graphic t-shirt. His hair is a shade of blue that clearly isn't one of nature's colours and yet it seems best to suit his enigmatic style. He is silent, watching something on the street, perhaps composing a song in his head and his eyes belay a pensiveness that could only have been the result of some heart-breaking loss. At present, it's hard to believe that this quiet individual is the same person who skyrocketed the success of Bad Luck to international heights. His demeanour now would never suggest that he was the same vibrant and captivating star that was on Tokyo's largest stage just last night, but just maybe there's more to Shuichi Shindou than meets the eye._

_Julia Evans: Shuichi, it's a pleasure to meet you. Your performance last night was incredible. _

_Shuichi Shindou: Thank you. _

_JE: It's been said by many local critics that you may surpass the success of Ryuichi Sakuma with international sales. Any comment?_

_SS: I'd be lying if I told you that wasn't my goal. I spent a long time revering Sakuma and I think it's time for me to step out of his shadow._

_JE: I think at this rate, you'll succeed._

_SS: Thank you. We'll have to see._

_JE: The president of N-G records, the Japanese label that originally signed Bad Luck, was a member of Ryuichi's band, Nittle Grasper. Does your goal to surpass Ryuichi cause any discord between you?_

_SS: No, not at all. Seguchi is a professional and the success of Bad Luck is also his success. If he is bothered by my determination, he's certainly never indicated it to me._

_JE: Shuichi, you seem like a very different person now than you are on stage._

_SS: (laughs) I think I'd wear myself out if I lived with that intensity at all times._

_JE: So you enjoy quiet time?_

_SS: To be honest, I never used to, but now that my privacy is constantly compromised, I do enjoy some time alone. _

_JE: From my understanding, Bad Luck enjoyed only minimal success in Japan until this past year. Most publicity for Bad Luck seemed to have been based in variety show appearances at first, and then centering on your relationship with award-winning novelist, Eiri Yuki. What events lead to Bad Luck being considered as a serious band?_

_SS: It's true, in the beginning Hiro and I did pretty much any petty thing we could from appearing on quiz shows to cooking shows and finally appearing on Hit Stage alongside Nittle Grasper. At that point, I thought that this was as far up as I could go. I mean, sharing a stage with Ryuichi had always been a dream of mine. But that day, I realized that Ryuichi was simply placating me...you know, bringing himself down to my level. Ever since then, I had a goal to surpass him. It finally came to a head when Bad Luck and Nittle Grasper entered into a singles competition two years ago. I couldn't stand the thought of losing to Ryuichi. I wanted to surpass him so badly. But, even though technically Bad Luck won the competition, I still hadn't surpassed Ryuichi. I hadn't even come close. After our national tour, things became clear for me and I lost all inhibitions about my music. I simply let it flow through me and here we are today._

_JE: I noticed that you purposefully left Eiri Yuki out of your explanation._

_SS: Eiri and my music are two entirely different matters._

_JE: They never crossed over?_

_SS: From time to time and nearly always in a negative way. I'm almost ashamed to admit to the utter lack of professionalism I displayed in those days._

_JE: It's been rumoured that your breakup happened just prior to the recording of your latest album._

_SS: That's true._

_JE: So, you're saying that Eiri had nothing to do with those powerful lyrics?_

_SS: Interpret it as you will._

_JE: This topic seems to be distressing to you._

_SS: No. I simply refuse to link my music to my relationships._

_JE: Some of your female fans may be disappointed to discover that you're homosexual._

_SS: (laughs) I wouldn't call that an accurate statement._

_JE: That your fans would be disappointed or that you're homosexual?_

_SS: I wouldn't call myself homosexual._

_JE: You did live with a man for three years and confirmed on national television that you were lovers, did you not?_

_SS: Yes. But, Yuki was...special. I don't know how to explain it. I fell in love with him, but gender didn't seem to matter in this case. I don't know. (laughs) I like girls._

_JE: Exclusively?_

_SS: Obviously not._

_JE: Anyone special in your life right now?_

_SS: No one special._

_JE: I think you just made a number of women's day, including mine._

_SS: (laughs) _

_JE: Let's get back on track here. This won't be the first time that you've attempted to cross over to the US. _

_SS: No. I did have a very brief stint with XMR, but I was under a lot of emotional stress at the time. I wasn't thinking clearly._

_JE: You came over as a solo artist and not with Bad Luck._

_SS: Er...perhaps a better way to put it is that I was coerced over to XMR. Luckily, I came to my senses before the contract was signed._

_JE: That would have been a great opportunity for you._

_SS: Yes. Absolutely. But I wasn't ready for it and I wasn't willing to leave Bad Luck behind._

_JE: If XMR were to offer you a contract now, would you accept it?_

_SS: I'm not sure, to be honest. It would depend on Hiro and Suguru, I think. I'd definitely take more time to think it through should the opportunity ever arise again. For now, I'm happy with N-G. They've given me countless opportunities and many chances, even when I didn't deserve them._

_JE: I have a hard time believing that you didn't deserve second chances._

_SS: You'd be surprised._

_JE: Your fourth album, Calligraphy, is being released in North America in October. How well of a reception do you expect to receive?_

_SS: I expect to take the world by storm. _

_JE: That's a lofty goal._

_SS: Only for some. For me and for Bad Luck, there's nothing standing in our way now. We'll rise to the top, watch for us!_

_And with that, the enigma from last night's stage is right there, sitting impatiently on a chic, modern Japanese-designed chair. There's a glow that emanates from Shuichi Shindou that is positively infectious, as though the sun itself is channelled through this small, beautiful man. I don't doubt that he will take the world by storm and anyone who's seen him on stage can hardly disagree. I, for one, will definitely be keeping an eye on Shuichi Shindou and Bad Luck._

"You're awfully nosy, aren't you?"

Eiri's voice shocked me out of my reverie.

"I'm sorry, Eiri."

Eiri lifted his eyebrows non-commitally and took a drag of his cigarette. He had to know how this looked.

"I know how this looks, Tohma."

"It looks like you have an unhealthy obsession."

Eiri shrugged. "I guess I do."

In that moment, he looked so fragile, as though he would break. How could I tell him that Shindou was missing? I strode across the room as Eiri slumped onto the sofa, placing an arm around his shoulders. He buried his face in his hands, he didn't need to lift his head for me to know that he was near tears.

"Eiri-"

"What did I do?" he asked, somewhat irrationally.

"You didn't do anything."

He looked up at me, a silent rage in his eyes. "I did. I did and I regret it."

His tone was murderous and cold shiver ran down my spine. What exactly had he done? Perhaps the shock factor was what I needed most. Fear crawled across my skin as I opened my mouth, keeping my voice as cool as possible.

"Shindou-san is missing."

For a moment, there was nothing in Eiri's face. Just blankness and then a sudden comprehension.

"What do you mean 'missing'? You mean you've misplaced him? Or maybe you've neglected to notice that someone has abducted him?" Eiri voice was rising in hysterical octaves I didn't think possible in him.

A wave of shame took over me for the disgraceful thought that had run through my mind. To think that Eiri would harm a hair on Shindou's head was ridiculous. It was clear to me who had ended the relationship now.

"I mean, he's missing. He's disappeared. Without a trace."

"Have you checked-?"

"We've checked everywhere, Eiri. You should know what an asset he is to N-G. We have no idea where he is. I'm suspecting that he acted on his own."

"You say that as if there's another option."

"There's always another option," I said carefully.

"No," he said sharply, as though just denying the possibility would be enough.

"The police haven't ruled out foul play yet."

I watched Eiri carefully as he drew his hands tightly through his tangled hair. "Shuichi," he whispered.

"He hasn't tried to contact you, Eiri?"

Eiri let out an indignant snort. "Would I be fawning over a fucking video of him if he had?"

He had a point. "I suppose not," I watched him carefully before continuing, "I wanted to let you know personally, Eiri, since I have a gag on the media right now."

Another snort. "Of course."

"Eiri, why don't you come and stay with Mika and I?"

Eiri's silence frightened me. Had he sucked up into himself again?

"No," he said, at length.

"Eiri?"

He looked up to me, his eyes softened in a way I hadn't seen in nearly a year. "What if he comes home?"

I've checked on him everyday since, but that softness has gone again. It's amazing how quickly he was able to adopt the cold, brittle mask again. I've tried suggesting that he see a doctor again, but Eiri always refuses. A month. Shindou may have some answering to do when he returns. If he returns.

_"Hiroshi-sama, what do you have to say about the reported disappearance of Shindou-san's former lover, Yuki Eiri-sama?"_

_"What?"_

My heart started to pound painfully against my ribcage. Eiri. My eyes locked onto the shocked expression on Nakano's face, instantly drying up.

"_We've had news that Yuki-sama has very recently been reported missing by his editor."_

_"I...I didn't know," _Nakano whispered.

I recognized the tone in his voice, it was drenched in hope. And it was the exact opposite to what I was thinking and feeling. My hand rested on the telephone and I felt the vibration of the ring before I heard it. Within in an instant, the phone was to my ear.

"Seguchi here."

"Tohma! Did you know? Tell me you didn't know!" The tears were thickening Mika's voice over the telephone line.

"Mika-san, I didn't know," I whispered.

But, I would very soon.


	4. Ryuichi

**DISCLAIMER: Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami. I'm just borrowing the characters to fulfill the needs of my own morbid plot bunnies.**

**AN: This one is...a lot shorter than I thought!! My bad. At least you find out where Shu's been, plus the next two will probably be super long. Enjoy this short rendezvous with Ryuichi!  
**

_"Love you get over in two months, big love you get over in two years, and great love, well great love... changes your life. So which one is it?" – Angelica, Win a Date with Tad Hamilton_

Ryuichi

_"I...I didn't know."_

Well, that makes about a million of us, genius guitarist.

I wondered if Shuichi had any idea what he was doing to the people who cared about him. Hiro was a mess, Tohma had clearly been keeping a gag on the media up until now, and now...Yuki-san... I bet he had no idea the torture he was inflicting on these people. I bet he hadn't even thought about it.

I know the image he'd been projecting for the past year. I know that image because he swiped it right from under my nose and made it his. In the beginning, people tried to compare us, but Shu twisted that image ever so slightly and it was all his. Things had been going so well for Shu in Japan and here, too, so imagine my surprise when the head of my security told me that there was someone at the gate for me. He spoke Japanese, they said. They couldn't understand him and they wondered if they should call the police.

I'd recognized him immediately, despite the hat and non-descript clothes – no, maybe _because _of them. He looked up at the security camera and smiled weakly, as though he knew I was looking at it right then. His face was not that of the purely confident superstar that had just gone around the world once, but of extremely talented young singer I first met all those years ago. I was excited in this really stupid way that Shuichi had come to visit me. A person like Shu is hard to come by, a person to jam with, a person with that kind of talent, that kind of heart, and to be honest, the States was a lonely place for a man like me.

I'd run out to meet him personally, losing all sense of image. It wasn't like my security team hadn't seen me doing ridiculous things before. That was the beauty of being considered a genius talent, people encouraged your eccentricities.

"SHUUUU-CHAANNN! I'm so exci-"

I'd had to stop everything when I actually got to the gate. Shu's face had remained blank and expressionless up until I'd reached him and then he'd collapsed against me. He was crying, sobbing uncontrollably. I didn't know what was wrong with him. What had triggered the tears? What had driven him to LA? I'd brought him inside obviously, set him up in a guest room and then found him on the couch in the morning.

"Sakuma-san, I'm sorry for just barging in like this," he'd started, his voice meek. He wasn't sparkling at all.

I frowned. "You're always welcome, Shu-chan."

He smiled then and it was the old Shuichi that I was seeing. In a way, I was relieved to see that he'd been in there somewhere, that he hadn't lost himself completely. I passed him a cup of coffee as I sat across from him at the table in my kitchen.

"Why are you here, Shuichi?"

He looked away from me, staring into the black depths of his coffee. "I couldn't...I couldn't do it anymore. I don't know how you do it, Sakuma. I don't know how you kept doing it."

"By letting myself out when no one important was looking."

"That never got me anywhere."

I took a sip of my coffee and stared at his bent head. "Women?"

Shuichi looked up and smiled wistfully. "Tried that. It's too empty."

I shrugged. "Men?"

"Even emptier."

I knew where this was going, even if he didn't. It was Yuki Eiri again. It was always Yuki Eiri. Shuichi had made it clear that he was able to produce and perform without Yuki, but whether he was able to live was another issue altogether.

"Yuki?"

"Ah, that's over, Sakuma."

"Is it?"

I hadn't experienced a glare like that from Shindou Shuichi in at least two years. "Yes."

"Do you actually want it to be?"

"I...," he started and stopped, his brow furrowing as though he hadn't actually thought about it. Chances are, with the quick recording and world tour, along with keeping up appearances, he really hadn't.

"It doesn't matter," he said softly.

"Of course not," I said, setting down my coffee and flicking on the television. I like US talk shows. If Japan thought that Shuichi and Yuki were scandalous, they clearly had never seen Mary Lou and her husband Joe-Bob who was having an affair with Mary Lou's daughter's best friend, who was also incidentally, her cousin twice removed and married to Mary Lou's secret lovechild with her neighbour.

"You think it does?"

I glanced at Shuichi and smirked. "It doesn't matter what I think."

Shuichi was silent for a while, contemplating something. Probably Yuki. I flicked through the channels aimlessly, finally landing on MTV who coincidentally was airing one of Bad Luck's videos. It was some nonsense show where they were comparing the Japanese and English versions of the song and, subsequently, the American and Japanese videos.

"Hey, Sakuma-san."

I turned towards Shu again.

"Please don't tell anyone I'm here."

I pursed my lips. "You want me to lie to Tohma?"

Shuichi bit his lip in thought. I would, of course, because I could. Tohma was usually able to catch on to me rather quickly, but seeing as he wouldn't be able to see my face it would take him longer.

"Please," he said softly, pleading with his huge eyes.

I pursed my lips some more, enjoying the worried expression on Shu's face. Tohma would forgive me. He always forgave me. One might say Tohma is to me as Hiro is to Shu. We do horrible, erratic things, but they can't hold it against us.

"I don't knoooow."

Tears were threatening at the corners of his eyes. He needed this, truly. He needed to be away from the cameras, the fame, the questions, Japan and the mere possibility of running into Yuki. I reached across the table and hugged him because I really couldn't help myself.

"Okay, Shu-chan!"

"Really?" he asked, stunned.

I pulled back, becoming serious again. "But Tohma's worse than a drug dog. He'll find out eventually, especially if you didn't cover your tracks."

Shuichi gave me a half-smile, one that had become his signature lately. "I took care of that."

And then it was gone, the sparkle that had started to reform. "I just, don't want to go back yet. I thought after the world tour, I'd be able to face him, but..."

"Ne, Shu?"

He looked at me, his face threatening to crumble.

"I have my very own recording studio downstairs. Let's sing!"

"Wow! That's so cool!"

Basically that's how we'd been spending the last month or so. Tohma had called looking for Shu on more than one occasion, but as of yet my lying skills have been sufficient. I'm actually surprised that Shuichi has been here this long without so much as contacting Hiro. It's almost as though he's been trying to forget Japan altogether. Whenever I broach the subject, he tells me that he isn't ready yet. I'm beginning to wonder if he'll ever be.

_"Apparently Mizuki-san has not been able to get in touch with the writer for several days. Do you think his disappearance could be linked to Shindou-san's disappearance?"_

Hmm. You think? I sighed and glanced at Shuichi, fast asleep on the couch. Maybe this would shake him from his stupor. I nudged his cheek with the cold beer can in my hand.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty."

"Nnngh."

"There's something on TV that you should see."

He sat up, blearily glancing at the television.

"Hi-ro?"

"_I...I really couldn't say. They haven't been involved for a long time, so I doubt it."_

Hiro was dazed in his response. It was obvious that now he was hoping Shuichi had run off with Yuki.

"Who...who are they talking about?"

I didn't have to answer.

_"Nakano-san, you don't find their disappearances a little suspicious given the story you just told us? First Shindou-san and now Yuki-san?"_

"Yuki? Yuki's missing?"

I shrugged as Shuichi's eyes searched mine. "Beats me."

He was off the couch immediately, disappearing down the hallway into his room. He came storming into the room just as the interview was finishing, a dazed Hiro looking back at us through the television.

"I have to go, Sakuma-san. I've stayed too long and I've made a mess of everything!"

"Where are you going?"

Shuichi paused, as though he hadn't quite thought about that yet. Then I saw the determination set in his eyes.

"New York, of course."


	5. Eiri

**DISCLAIMER: Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami. I'm just borrowing the characters to fulfill the needs of my own morbid plot bunnies.**

**AN: AT LONG LAST, THE LOVERS REUNITE!! Fireworks Drama Lots of tears Possibly hot man sex Wait...not yet. Tee hee. Anyway, here is the long awaited arrival of one Yuki Eiri. He is a hot mess, both figuratively and colloquially. Actually, physically he's really cold in this chapter. He needs some mittens...and a scarf. And maybe a snuggle. SHUICHI-SNUGGLES! DON'T TRY TO RESIST! Anyyyypoo, please enjoy. I like this chapter bestest.  
**

_"Love you get over in two months, big love you get over in two years, and great love, well great love... changes your life. So which one is it?" – Angelica, Win a Date with Tad Hamilton_

Eiri

And here I was again. I pulled out a cigarette, my one remaining little pleasure, and lit it. The smoke billowed up into my face, brushing my cheek with its dry, soothing warmth. The fall weather, which had been so temperate and comforting in Japan was nothing more than a dank emptiness here. I knew that if I were to reach out and touch the stone before me, it would be ice-cold and unforgiving. Just like life.

It all comes down to you once again, Yuki. It always does. Everywhere I turn, there you are. For every step I took with Shuichi, you pulled me back three more with your icy, transparent grip upon me. I hate that. I hate you. No. I wish I could hate you, but I can't. I never could and I never will. Just as no matter how much I run from him, I can never escape. And now...now he's...

As though on cue, the cell phone in my pocket vibrated against my leg. It took my brain a moment to comprehend where the source of that infernal buzzing was coming from and then my hand was frantically pulling and pushing through the fabric of my pocket. I was fumbling, painfully, with the phone. What if it was him? What if he needed me? That idiot. How could he not?

With trembling fingers, I flipped the phone open only to face a harsh blow of disappointment. Tohma. I pressed the power button without remorse. There were two reasons why Tohma could be contacting me now. One was that he had only just realized that I had left the country, and the other was that they'd found Shuichi. In either sense, I didn't want to talk to Tohma now. Not now. These things took time to accept and I wanted to go quietly mad all by myself. What else was there to do? At least when we weren't speaking, I could still watch him from afar. Even if he seemed a little broken, it was all for the best, right? I only had his best interests in mind. I always did. Well...that was a lie.

Shuichi had been gone, missing without a trace, for a month now. Despite his apparent transformation from moron with a killer voice to superstar with a killer voice, he was still an idiot at the core. There was no way that he could have covered his tracks this well. He was no Sakuma Ryuichi. And that retard didn't know where Shuichi was either, so that left him to act on his own. Or...against his will. Something started to burn in my chest with that thought. I'd gone to great lengths to never force him to do anything he didn't want to do and to think that he would have been forced to meet some awful end...

Pain wracked through my head and the dull ache of tears that would never fall threatened at the corner of my eyes. The cigarette fell from my fingertips as I buried my face in my hand, my icy fingers forming a prison around my face. A prison I had built for myself. A death that I had forced upon him. Why couldn't I have just left Yuki alone? Why couldn't I have just appreciated what I had and not questioned it so much? I heard a noise, a painful sounding, horrible noise. The sound of anguish. I was appalled to realize that the noise had come from me. I was even more shocked to see the tiny crystal domes which formed against my pale, cold hand, falling so unceremoniously from my eyes. Tears. Tears for Shuichi.

"I knew I'd find you here."

His voice, so soft and forgiving. So tender. So alive. That ugly noise ripped from somewhere deep inside me again. Why did I have to do this to myself now? No, maybe it was all I deserved for my mind to fill with his voice, the voice I'd never hear again, the voice that was so ethereally different from his songs. There was no need to turn around. No need to spin and find that I was standing in an empty graveyard. No need to fully accept the emptiness yet. Why not just enjoy the sick, little torture my mind had conjured up?

I fumbled with a cigarette again, forcing it into my mouth in an attempt to quell the nausea building in my stomach. It took me three tries to light it. I sighed, drawing in a shaky breath despite the unending tears. The nicotine, which used to taste so sweet, was simply stale. Empty. Like everything else was without him. I imagined the sound of crisp leaves crunching beneath his light steps, imagined him standing next to me.

"Of course, all my ghosts gather together to torment me," I muttered, still refusing to acknowledge the mirage should it disappear as a result.

My invented Shuichi said nothing, he merely moved closer to me. Unable to resist any longer, I glanced at him. His hair was longer than I remembered it last, longer than at his last concert, almost as though he'd let it grow for a month. Oh, how sick is the imagination of a writer! What constant attention to detail! Ah, well, this was Shuichi after all. Perhaps he deserved every single detail my mind could recall and then some.

He was dressed in baggy, khaki-green pants and an oversized black hooded sweatshirt, effectively hiding his lithe form from prying eyes. That sick, possessive part of me approved. Of course he was wearing something I would approve of! He was my creation! The wind whipped by us, causing him to hug his arms in close. He moved slightly, a shiver crawling down his spine, a glint of silver flashed through the strands of his hair. He'd pierced his ear – a thick metal cuff sat high on the curve of his ear. It was fitting for him, something to go along with his image. He'd probably done it after...after...that..._argument._ What a child.

Dark glasses hid his wide eyes. They were totally unnecessary in the failing daylight, in this dank cemetery, in this hideous city that never sleeps. I get it. He's in rockstar-cognito. I had forgotten how popular he was here. He'd probably be mauled by rabid American girls, harassed for autographs, tormented by flashbulbs. He would have done that all alone. All because I was too foolish to admit the truth to anyone.

"Yuki again, huh?" he asked quietly. Almost respectfully. This wasn't _my_ Shuichi. My Shuichi was loud and obnoxious. My Shuichi was unstoppable. My Shuichi was dead.

"It always starts with him," I sighed, taking another shaky drag, "and ends with you."

Shuichi, sweet, imagined, undead Shuichi, turned to look at me. I couldn't take it. I couldn't take the sad acceptance in his eyes. Just because he had accepted that it had to be this way, why should I?

The ground tilted beneath me, shifting my world down. Down, down, down. Down until I was kneeling in the frozen mud at Yuki's grave. Down where I belonged. Those hideous tears started again, uncontrollable and yet so natural. Gravity was against me in all ways and all I wanted to do was die. But dying wouldn't be enough. Dying wouldn't bring anyone back.

"Hey."

His voice again, drenched with concern. I felt his small hand resting gently on the top of my head. That hand, whose touch I knew so very well. That hand...I...wouldn't...never again. He wasn't there and what I was doing was mad because as soon as it was set in motion, it would end the beautiful illusion. Still, I flung my arms around his waist, pressing my face against his stomach. Somehow it had held up, this sweet delusion. He was warm, and svelte, and...Shuichi. He felt so real, as though it were really his small, searing fingers carefully knotted in my hair. As though it were really his back that my fingers, cold and unforgiving and so unlike his own, were digging into relentlessly. I was always so cruel and careless with him. At first, because I didn't know any other way and later because I was too embarrassed to admit that he'd softened me. And I liked it. I liked feeling warm and wanted and _possessed_ by someone.

"Yuki," he whispered.

His tone was unmistakable and horribly tainted with tears. It was all I could do to him after all; make him cry until he had no tears left.

"I'm sorry!" I shouted, my voice muted in his sweatshirt, "I'm sorry! I regret...everything."

I felt him sliding within my grip until his knees were touching mine in the mud and leaves. His hands gripped my head delicately and his cheek rested wetly against the top of my head. My hands slid up to his shoulders, forcing him to me even more. I didn't want to lose this; it was all I had left. When the tears stopped, Shuichi would be gone and I will have lost the one thing worth living for.

"I'm here, Yuki."

His hands slid down, burning against my face. His fingers caught my chin delicately and tilted it upwards slightly, forcing me to look into his eyes. Somehow the glasses had come off and his eyes were bare: wide, understanding, and full of love I didn't deserve. I shook my head.

"But you're not really here," I insisted. "You're gone. Gone."

His face fell slightly. "I'm sorry, Yuki. I should never have..."

Died? No. But I killed you. "Why must I kill everyone I love?"

That voice couldn't have belonged to me. It was too raw and torn with emotion. Yuki Eiri wasn't supposed to be capable of that. Shuichi tensed in my rigid grip.

"What did you say?"

"I said I love you. I love you and I never told you. Never. Not once. Kept that secret to myself like the bastard that I am. And now...now...," I trailed off into another hideous sob.

Shuichi looked at me, a tiny smile gracing his face. He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine gently, but insistently. No one kissed like Shuichi. No one. Maybe it was simply that no one had loved me like Shuichi. Or, maybe it was that _I_ had never loved anyone like Shuichi.

I expected him to be gone when I opened my eyes, his spirit having gotten what it truly wanted, but there he was still. I frowned, my tears finally subsiding. I loosened my vice-like grip and stared at him. He hadn't disappeared yet. I stared a little harder. Do ghosts really end up covered in mud?

"Yuki, you're being a little creepy."

Shuichi and I just sat in the mud there, as the sky grew darker, and stared at one another. Shuichi became more and more uneasy, biting his lip, playing with the string of his sweatshirt, and glancing at me every once in a while.

"I'm sorry I worried you," he said at length.

I kept my face blank. Part of me wanted to pulverize the little shit, while another part wanted to fuck him right here on Yuki's grave and yet another part of me simply wanted him to continue holding me forever. I figured blank was the best approach. He fidgeted some more and honestly I could've watched him do that for the rest of the night. Just sitting there and fidgeting. Being Shuichi. I'd been without him so long; my brain was overdosing on his every action.

"Hey, Yuki?"

I pulled out a cigarette and tried my damnedest to act cool. "What?"

"Did you mean that?"

I glanced at him. Could he try to make sense at least once in a while? "What?"

"That...," he paused, blushing furiously, "That you love me."

I narrowed my eyes and turned away, lighting my cigarette. "I won't repeat it."

"Ah! Come on, Yuki!"

The smile that stretched across my face was so foreign to my facial muscles that it was almost painful, but it was worth it to see the light explode behind Shuichi's careful eyes.

There were things that needed to be said, of course. Things that needed to be laid out plainly. But for just a while longer, I wanted to bask in sunlight of Shuichi's untainted love, right here and right now.


	6. Shuichi

_DISCLAIMER: Gravitation belongs to Maki Murakami. I'm just borrowing the characters to fulfill the needs of my own morbid plot bunnies._

**AN: Wooo. So here he is: Shindou Shuichi! He's pretty collected for a Shuichi, but at the core he's still a bit of a mess. This chapter, hm, well it gets a little choppy near the end, but it was the only way I could think to do it. Sorry if the end bits feel rushed... Anypoo, enjoy.**

**_WARNING: Explicit lyrics. Also, implied hot man sex.  
_**

_"Love you get over in two months, big love you get over in two years, and great love, well great love... changes your life. So which one is it?" – Angelica, Win a Date with Tad Hamilton_

Shuichi

For a minute there, with Yuki smiling at me, all covered in mud and looking vulnerable, it was almost like things were back to normal. Like we were back in time a year or so. Like _that_ had never happened. Like Yuki had never said those things. Like I had never said those things. But then a cold breeze blew up the back of my neck and ruined everything. It was icy, just like Yuki's eyes that night. Just like the cruelly truthful things he'd said. Just like my heart.

I felt my smile die and watched in silent horror as Yuki's disappeared as well. That year had happened. Bad Luck had become an international success. I had a whole team of people answering my fan mail. I had paparazzi breathing down my neck. I was a household name _everywhere_. _I_ was totally different than I had been then. Or, at least I faked it well.

I stared at Yuki, still divine in his internal misery. Still made me want to die, even with puffy red eyes and covered in mud. I was in serious trouble here. I mean, I don't know what I was expecting, but a confession after all this time? Yuki saying he _loved_ me? I never expected that. Never ever. My heart was pounding painfully in my chest. Yuki broke eye contact, looking down at the ground, the consecrated ground of Kitazawa Yuki. I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding in. There was so much to say, so much to tell Yuki, and yet so much that I _couldn't_ say. I'd made a decision way back then. A decision that involved a life decidedly without Yuki Eiri. But, if that had been the right decision, why did I feel so empty?

Yuki pulled out a cigarette, his long, nicotine stained fingers fumbling with the lighter. That's when it started to break loose, the ball of _something_ that had been growing in my chest for a year. Every time I saw someone who had Yuki's mannerisms, or height, or colouring; every time I thought I saw Yuki, this _thing _threatened to break loose. It was the part of me that loved Yuki totally; it was the part of me that had no control over my emotions, or anything, really. It was the part of me that insisted I still wear his ring around my neck, if not on my hand when no one was looking. It was the part of me that was forcing me to my feet and holding out my hand to him.

The other part of me screamed: _STUPID STUPID STUPID_! I sighed softly. Fine, I was stupid. But let's face it: I'd be anything for Yuki. He looked at my hand, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips, expression both drained and confused. I could do this. I could do this without falling to pieces. I could help Yuki. His hand closed around mine and I knew I'd just lied to myself. I couldn't do this without falling apart, but he didn't have to know. After all, I'd fooled the whole wide world for a year now. Regaining my senses, I pulled Yuki from the ground and started walking out of that fucking cemetery. If I never came here and saw Kitazawa's grave again, it would be too soon. Yuki was uncharacteristically submissive as he let me lead him down the crowded New York streets. I wasn't really sure where I was going, but I knew there was big hotel near the cemetery; Sakuma-san had made me a map. The problem was that his writing was so damn illegible...

I felt Yuki's grip slacken on my hand momentarily and twisted to see why. I was terrified that he was going to wake up from his stupor, realize that he still didn't want me, and leave me alone in the city I despise. I was both relieved and heartbroken to see that someone had simply bumped into him and knocked him loose of me. For a minute, my body refused to cooperate and I simply stared at him. He stood out even here, an angel in a muddy trenchcoat. How had I lived without him? How had I found the power to face each day without hearing his voice? Finally my feet responded to the maddening beat of my heart and I ran to him, grabbing his hand with selfish ferocity. It was that same feeling I felt way back then, when Ayaka had tried to take him from me. Yuki is mine.

"I won't leave you."

Yuki's surprise echoed my own as I realized that I was the one who'd said that. I'd thought that those sentiments had died a year ago. I thought that my ridiculous dependency had fallen to pieces with one last harsh statement. A declination of love bathed in insult. Typical Eiri stuff, really, but that whole mess had been too raw and too _honest**.**_ The truth was, I'd simply buried it deep. I never stopped loving him. I never stopped crying myself to sleep, long after Suguru and Hiro had passed out. I never stopped dreaming about him.

Yuki's face scrunched up into an expression I hadn't seen from him before and I realized that he was in a really bad place. Did he still think I was a ghost? Was this too much for him? No, I wouldn't leave him. But this time, it wouldn't be for me. This time I'd stay for _him_.

"We're almost there, Yuki," I forced a whisper.

He nodded once in agreement and I just about wrapped my arms around him then. Instead, I put on my superstar mask and continued pulling him behind me. Finally, we reached a building that looked decidedly hotel-y. I licked my lips and looked at my little hand-drawn map. I couldn't read Sakuma's handwriting to save my life. Shrugging, I hoped that this was the right hotel. He'd said that it was one he used often and that it was good for anonymity. I pulled Yuki inside, breathing in the wave of warm air that blew at us as we entered the door. I was at the desk before I realized that I was still tugging Yuki behind me like a lost puppy.

Fumbling with my wallet, I started speaking in Japanese, barely noticing that the receptionist had asked me to wait a moment in English. I waited impatiently, pushing my sunglasses onto the top of my head. Setting down my wallet on the marble desktop, I rubbed my eyes wearily. With my other hand, I fiddled aimlessly with the ring on Yuki's finger. The ring. On Yuki's finger. I turned my head slowly, dull realization hitting me slowly. I opened my hand, letting Yuki's rest gently on my palm. The ring. He still wore it.

I felt my brow furrow. Why? Why would he still wear it? Why, after he said those things? After I said those things? I looked up into his radiant face and he exhaled softly when my eyes met his. God, he was _broken_. What had I done to him?

"Konban wa. Nan de shou ka?"

"Nani?" I mumbled before realizing that the desk clerk had brought over another girl.

The girl couldn't have been more than seventeen, her blonde hair streaked with bright red; she really didn't fit in a place like this. I blinked at her and then shook my head.

"You work here?" I asked stupidly.

She laughed, her huge blue eyes crinkling up nicely. I smiled tiredly at my own stupidity. I was surprised that Yuki, even in this state, didn't have a snide comment to make. It was a testament to how on edge he really was. I squeezed his fingers subconsciously and started to speak to the girl again.

"Sorry, I need to book a room."

"Just one?" she asked in Japanese, looking pointedly at Yuki.

I smiled lightly. "Just one."

Like hell I was leaving him alone. Besides, I'm sure I could control myself, especially given his current mental state. Nothing to worry about.

She turned to the computer screen, typing away.

"Name?"

I sighed again. "Shindou Shuichi," I mumbled, my mind focussed elsewhere, like on the little white gold band around Yuki's ring finger, matching the one which felt like it was burning a hole through my chest right now.

"Shuichi? Shuichi Shindou?" The girl's voice had gotten a bit excited and I suddenly realized my blunder.

I clenched my teeth together. "Er, is it too late to change it to Fred Flintstone?"

The girl smiled knowingly and started typing. "Fred Flintstone it is."

We cleared up all the details, you know, no calls, no visitors, no press. It was Seguchi-san's staple line of our world tour. No calls, no visitors, no press. No calls, no visitors, no press. A horrible little mantra. I might write a song about it one day. Just as we were getting ready to leave the desk, my little gold card safely stowed back in my wallet, the girl spoke again.

"Wait, you...you're Eiri Yuki," she said in quiet wonder.

My heart plummeted. How did she know what Yuki looked like? I looked up at him and he looked at her in silent bemusement. I could see where the line between professionalism and fanaticism had been crossed. She could keep her cool with me, but me _with _Eiri Yuki, a man I had denounced as my lover publicly and often since _that_ day – well, that was something else entirely. Something even the American press would pay for.

"Please," I said softly, my eyes pleading with her.

Her face dropped suddenly. "Shindou-san, I am a huge fan of Bad Luck. I would never...I mean...I wouldn't..."

"Thank you," Yuki said in flawless English. I stared at Yuki in surprise and the girl looked like she was about to pass out.

Yuki tugged my hand gently, directing me towards the elevator. Just like that, we'd switched roles again. There was a couple in the elevator with us; the woman kept staring at me suspiciously. I pushed my sunglasses back over my eyes and pretended to be fixing my hair in the mirror until the elevator stopped and the couple stepped out. As the doors closed, I heard her say: "I swear, it was that guy, that Shuichi guy, from that band!"

I exhaled loudly and pushed my glasses up on my head. Yuki spared me a glance, his face looking even more tired than it had earlier. He looked like he wanted to say something, but stopped himself. It made me feel the need to speak, just to fill the air, lighten the mood.

"It gets old," I said with a shrug, "People always wanting a piece of you."

Yuki said nothing as he stared forward, his image projecting back at him from the shiny elevator door. At long last, the door opened and I stepped out. Yuki hesitated and then stepped out behind me, speaking so quietly I almost missed it.

"I thought it was what you wanted."

That little ball of something, which I had managed to push down again, clawed its way upwards again. It was screaming retribution in the simplest way possible: _ALL I WANTED WAS YOU!_ I pushed it down once more. Music was my life, sure, but fame? Fame _ruined_ my life. I pushed on down the hallway even though the walls seemed to be closing in on me. The keycard slipped from my fingers, tumbling to the ground. I felt like crying, which was so idiotic. To cry over a keycard falling to the floor? To cry over a relationship that had died a year ago? All of it – stupid, stupid, stupid.

I bent down quickly and grabbed the card from the ground, my fingers scraping roughly against the carpeting, the salty burn of unshed tears in my eyes. I took a long, deep breath and opened the door with ease, the tears having disappeared again. Yuki followed me into the dark room, closing the door behind him. I kept pushing on forward, pulling my shoes off in the hallway, habit being too difficult to break at this moment, and surveyed the room. Two nightstands, a king size bed, a flat screen television, a sitting room by the window, and an oversized bathroom. Pretty standard fair. I turned back around and froze. Yuki stood in the hallway, staring at the ground. Something suddenly felt wrong, I realized. Somewhere between the cemetery and the hotel room, I had lost sight of what I was doing. Somewhere along that convoluted path, I had become selfish, old Shuichi. And that Shuichi wanted a hot shower. And that Shuichi had forgotten that he had made Eiri break down into tears. And that Shuichi didn't care. But, I wasn't that Shuichi anymore.

"Yuki?"

I approached him slowly, as though he were a rabid beast. Maybe in some ways he was. "Would you like a shower, Yuki?"

I needed to avoid his tears and anger. I needed to avoid my own.

Yuki looked at me, his face contorted in disbelief as I stared up at him.

"A shower?" he said, his voice thick with the tears caught in his throat, "What are you? Stupid?"

"Wha-?"

Before I even knew what was happening, Yuki had his arms wrapped around me so desperately, as though he were afraid I would disappear. I felt his tears rolling down the side of my neck.

"I need you," he said, almost inaudibly, "but look at you. You don't need anyone."

That _something_ seemed to explode into a million pieces right then, filling every part of me, driving my arms around him and pushing out the tears I'd kept locked out.

"What are you? Stupid?" I said in between sniffles. "I've always needed you."

Yuki drew back, tear streaks shimmering in the moonlight making his perfect face even more beautiful. "I didn't mean anything I said then."

I broke eye contact and stared at his shoulder instead of his perfect face. It was too late for that sort of talk and if I were to look into his face now, I'd be inclined to give him the forgiveness he wanted but didn't yet deserve. Besides, I wasn't ready to be forgiven yet either. This wasn't going to be a quick fix, but let's just say that my policy on these things is deep. Or rather, should I say shallow?

I turned into him, pressing myself upwards on my toes and meeting his lips with my own. I didn't want to talk about _that_ yet. I just wanted to be with Yuki. As I had always wanted. As I would always want. The shock of familiarity in his kiss overwhelmed me. He tasted of stale cigarette smoke, salted tears and..._Yuki_. It's amazing how your body is so able to store these memories in taste. Every kiss we'd ever shared flooded my system and before I knew it, we were in the self-same struggle to remove clothing and make it to the bed, or the wall, or the floor, or wherever. It didn't really matter, did it?

* * *

Yuki was so beautiful in his sleep. The way his face relaxed and you could see the sweetness that he worked so hard to cover up during the day; the rise and fall of his chest; the slow steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. How, oh, how had I made it through this last year? When you make it big, they start to say you've sold out. I think I paid with my soul. But, luckily, Yuki had kept it safe for me.

The other marvellous thing about a sleeping Yuki is that he is dead to the world. I picked up my cell phone and let my fingers dial from memory. The phone rang once and then another voice I had missed filled my ears.

"Shuichi?! Shu is that you?"

"Hi, Hiro."

"Shu?"

"Yes?"

"Are you alright?"

I looked at Yuki. "Yes."

"Shu?"

"Yeah?"

"Where the FUCK have you been?"

* * *

I think Yuki had been hoping to talk. Then again, maybe not. I mean, it's not as though we'd spent much of the last three days _talking_. He bounces back really well, too, although he'd been walking on eggshells with me. Carefully cutting his insults in half before they even exit his mouth. It must have been difficult for him.

I was carefully constructing my flight outfit – another set of oversized clothes, a baseball cap, huge sunglasses. Totally inconspicuous.

"You look like a fucking pop star in disguise," Yuki said blandly from behind me.

"Well, that's because I am one!" I said hotly.

Yuki raised his eyebrows. "Still an idiot, and here I thought you'd changed."

"Shut up."

I pulled off my sweatshirt and slid on my coat. I stared at my reflection, rethinking the glasses and hat, too. As I reached across the counter for the hair brush, the ring fell loose from the inside of my shirt, dangling on the chain brightly in the artificial light of the hotel bathroom. Yuki's fingers caught the chain lightly and he fingered the ring thoughtfully. Turning to face him, I watched his face carefully. His hand closed around the ring and the chain and for a moment I thought he was going to tug the chain from my neck. Instead, he paused and let the ring fall free. His hands closed up around the back of my neck, which sent my pulse racing. I wasn't sure what was happening until I saw that he'd taken the chain from my neck. The ring slid off the chain and into his hand as he let one side go. It shimmered against his palm and he considered it for a moment before catching my left hand in his.

"Shuichi."

"Hmm?" I mumbled, unable to form coherent words as he ran his finger up the length of my ring finger.

"Will you wear it again?"

My eyes must have been bugging out of my head as I searched his face for any hint of irony. Everything was so tentative right now, so delicate. I swallowed and convinced my tongue to work again.

"I've always worn it, Yuki," I admitted quietly.

His eyes were sad as he considered the ring again, poising it between his thumb and index finger. Oh, what the hell. There was no chance of me leaving him ever again, no matter what nonsense he managed to spout at me in the future. I snatched the ring from his hand and slid it on my finger in one solid movement. Then, before he had a chance to say anything else, I turned back to my hair. The smile he thought I hadn't seen in the mirror was definitely worth it.

* * *

It was good to see that Japan never changes. I paused at the end of the walkway causing Yuki to slam, somewhat pleasantly, into my back. He grunted at me in irritation. The problem was that I could hear them already, shouting my name, screaming madly. Was there no security?

"What now, brat?" he hissed. The familiarity of his irate attitude made my heart swell in this really stupid way. I really was a moron.

"Well," I started timidly. Then I remembered that I was my own man, damn it! I spun to face Yuki.

"Yuki, you stay behind for a couple of minutes. I'll draw the crowd off and then we can recoup in the parking lot. Hiro said Seguchi-san would have a car waiting."

Yuki blinked at me and I took that as confirmation, spinning around quickly to face my imminent doom. I was stopped very suddenly by a firm grip on my wrist.

"Fat chance, kid." Yuki said smoothly, pushing my sunglasses back down over my eyes.

"Yuki, but...the press..."

"So?" he said, his hand sliding from my wrist to my hand, entwining his fingers with my own. "Are you stupid? Tohma will have a car waiting? Probably complete with an assassin."

"Oh." Right, there was that whole not contacting anyone for a month thing I had to deal with...

"Besides," Yuki said with a sideways grin that mesmerized me, "We have my car."

Yuki glanced down at me, "Shall we?"

My face stretched into a smile widely, against all my careful, superstar restraints, as he pulled me alongside him. The flashbulbs burned my eyes, the screams pierced my ears, but Yuki's hand was in mine and, in spite of everything, that's all I could ever ask for.

_To be continued..._

**AN 2.0: Ooh, a second AN! Fanfic faux pas! Bet you thought I was going to tell you what the fight was about, didn't you? Gahahaha. ****Oh well. So, here's the plan. There's more to come in the form of a much more in depth sequel, but my question to you is this: should I do the sequel in third person, or would you like me to carry on this first person style? I'm a little torn about it. Thanks for reading!! **


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